


if life was a movie you're the best part

by fasola



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: College Student Stiles Stilinski, Friends to Lovers, Future Fic, Getting Together, Humor, M/M, self-care
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 16:42:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17287703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fasola/pseuds/fasola
Summary: Stiles admits that going to the fair on his own the one weekend he’s back home, even if it’s a date with himself, might not have been the best date idea he’s had.





	if life was a movie you're the best part

Stiles admits that going to the fair on his own the one weekend he’s back home, even if it’s a date with himself, might not have been the best date idea he’s had. 

 

He’s been doing it every other week this term, as means to relax from the stress of college and an escape from his stuffy dorm room, but also to give himself something nice to look forwards too, whether it was a trip to the museum, a movie marathon at the cinema, or eating at his favorite sushi place. 

 

It gives him a chance to unwind and enjoy himself and if he sometimes wishes he had someone to go with it’s always a fleeting thought. He’s doing it for himself first and foremost. His friends, both the ones he’s made at college and his pack, spread out around the country as they are, all support his self-dates, as long as he does socialize with them, too.

 

Somehow, it led Stiles to this: going on all of his favorite rides, gorging himself on unhealthy, overpriced delicious food, but not enjoying it nearly as much as he would if he had anyone, friend or boyfriend or date, there with him.

 

Finally, he decides that, at the very least, he’ll win himself a plushie no matter if the games are rigged or not. He’s fought a  _ chupacabra  _ and aced all his essays so far, and that’s just this term, he  _ can  _ and  _ will  _ win the unicorn-owl amalgamation. 

 

Or so he thought, but six shots and 10 dollars later, he only got as far as to getting a kazoo as a consolation prize.

 

Stiles is just considering giving up because he has some pride and doesn’t want to be stuck eating instant noodles all of next week, when someone clears their throat behind him.

 

Stiles turns around and is faced with with piercing blue eyes and a devilish smirk, framed by a very familiar, villain goatee. He looks as handsome as ever, damn him, even with a neckline so deep it’s indecent in this family friendly setting. 

 

“I’m a pretty good shot with that thing,” Peter says, as he leans against the booth, facing Stiles. 

 

“Of course you are,” Stiles shoots back, he tries to hide his smile by looking around for Derek or Cora, “What are you doing here?”

 

He’s ridiculously pleased to see Peter, something he’s not quite ready to admit to anyone other than himself just yet. A lot has changed over the years, and with Beacon Hills mostly free of supernatural trouble and most of them graduating and going off to college, Stiles has found himself in semi-regular contact with Peter. He’d wager they’re friends, most days.

 

Other days he curses himself for developing a crush for Peter, who when he’s sane and less of a prick, is quite fun to hang out with and talk to, even if just over text. There’s a lot that Stiles appreciates about Peter: his intelligence, his cutting wit, his thirst for knowledge and actual willingness to share it. Peter can be downright hilarious, too. But what Stiles finds the most attractive is Peter’s ruthless loyalty.

 

“Family bonding,” Peter replies, rolling his eyes at the notion, but still looking fond as he says it, “Cora dragged us out to have some regular people fun, as she called it They’re enjoying crashing into each other on bumper cars, last I saw them.”

 

Stiles smiles at the mental image and pities everyone else on the ride with Cora.

 

“And you? Were bumper cars not sophisticated enough for the big bad wolf?” Stiles teases.

 

“Not after the third time Cora dragged us back to it. I may have also spotted someone very familiar struggling at the gaming booths,” Peter says, still smirking at Stiles, but it’s somehow softer than before.

 

Before Stiles can make a quip about it, the person managing the booth interrupts them.

 

“Do you want another go? If not, please make room for someone else.”

 

Stiles looks at the man, then back at Peter, grinning at the werewolf.

 

“Think you could show off those skills you apparently have and win me that unicorn-owl?”

 

“Oh? And what do I get in return if I do?” Peter asks, leaning into Stiles’ space.

 

Emboldened by the look in Peter’s eyes, Stiles says, “The pleasure of my company for the rest of the day.”

 

“Then I’ll do my best,” Peter winks at Stiles and hands the vendor the money, accepting the tennis balls in return. 

 

Peter fakes it with the first two throws, toppling over most, but not all of the cans. Stiles swats at his shoulder playfully, “C’mon, show off the way you really want to and get me my prize.” He allows himself to get closer, pressing against Peter’s side, to whisper in his ear, “I’ll let you drag me on the Ferris Wheel after.”

 

He’s playing with fire, but even if he’s reading this wrong, he’s going back to Berkler in a few days and he’s sure Peter won’t be mean about it, anyway.

 

But Peter is smiling at him still, not at all displeased by Stiles’ advances.

 

“How about a kiss for good luck then?” he suggests, startling a pleased laugh out of Stiles.

 

“Damn you, Peter Hale,” he says, but he’s leaning in already, pressing his lips in a chaste kiss to the corner of Peter’s mouth, “Win me my plushie, Peter.”

 

With that encouragement Peter makes quick work of doing just that, knocking all of the cans down with the last ball. He looks impossibly pleased with himself as he hands Stiles the horned owl and Stiles can’t help but kiss him right there, lingering and sweet, relishing in the way Peter kisses him right back, holding Stiles close by placing his hands on Stiles’ hips. 

 

They have to break apart when someone bumps into them. 

 

“It’s time for your reward,” Stiles says, 

 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Peter says, then leans in for another brief kiss, before he takes Stiles’ hand and pulls him away from the booth and in the direction of the Ferris Wheel, “It feels like it’s me that won it all.”

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
